


Will You Model for Me?

by happy_waffles



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira's got two hands y'all, I decided to just, M/M, after much debate, choose both ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-07-25 07:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16192595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happy_waffles/pseuds/happy_waffles
Summary: AU where Yusuke asks Akira to be his model instead of Ann.





	1. Ann's "Stalker"

Ann could feel it.

Someone was stalking her.

She starts fussing around with her bag, unsure whether to tell Akira and Ryuji. (It certainly wasn’t her first time being stalked, but this one sure felt off. The person felt too…passionate? It was like they were boring a hole into her with their relentless gaze).

She tries to calm herself with the thought that she’ll lose them soon.

…

She didn’t lose them at all!

She could feel their gaze all the way over here, near the escalators.

That’s it.

Enough is enough.

Clutching her bag for support, she hisses at Akira and Ryuji, “Someone’s stalking me…!”

Akira immediately becomes alert.

Ryuji just yawns. “You sure you’re not being delusional?”

Ann swatts at his arm. “At least sound concerned for me!”

“Fine,” he grunts, rubbing his arm. He then starts to walk up the steps faster. “C’mon.”

“Did you come up with a plan?” Akira asks.

“Something like that.”

…

Ann taps a finger against the strap of her bag, waiting outside the entrance of the underground walkway.

Waiting for her stalker.

 _What a stupid plan_ , she thinks, throwing a glare in Ryuji’s direction. He responds back with a thumbs up.

And then she hears it.

Footsteps.

“Excuse me—”

“You!” Ann quickly whips around, digging a finger in her stalker’s chest. She hears Akira and Ryuji scramble from their hiding places. “So you were the one stalking me!”

“Stalking you…? That’s outrageous.”

Ann pauses, taken aback by their sincerity. She takes a moment to scrutinize him—neatly brushed hair, clean, pristine clothes, a tall, graceful figure—and she feels her confidence slip a little.

He definitely didn’t _look_ like a stalker.

Apparently, Ryuji thinks this, too, because he turns to Ann and asks her with an incredulous look, “Are you sure this is him? Or you just that self-conscious?”

“I’m not—!” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “You know what? _So_ not important right now.”

She fixates her attention on her stalker(?) and points an accusatory finger at him again. “I know you’ve been following me! Ever since the train!”

“Like I’ve said,” the blue-haired teenager calmy responds, brushing away a few stray hairs from his face. “I wasn’t following you. I’m not interested in you.”

“L-Liar!” Ann sputters. “You came all this way…You approached me…!”

“Only to ask you where he went,” the blue-haired teenager cuts in, pointing at…Akira? “You see, he’s the one that caught my attention.”

“Huh?” Ann and Ryuji both say, utterly confused.

Ann’s supposed stalker takes a step closer to the slightly surprised Akira. “I saw you from my car…and I couldn’t help but chase after you. Thank goodness I caught up to you.”

Another “Huuuhh??” escapes from Ann and Ryuji.

“You’re the one I’ve been searching for all this time! Please, won’t you—”

“W-wait a minute,” Ryuji frantically butts in, “you can’t just show up and—”

“Be the model for my next art piece?!” The blue-haired teen finishes.

“Huuuuuhhhhh??!” It was like a natural reflex for Ann and Ryuji at this point.

“Model?” Akira echoes, surprised.

“All that I’ve drawn till now has been lacking,” the blue-haired teen explains, “but I feel a passion from you unlike anyone else.”

“Sounds a little shady, don’t you think?” Ryuji grumbles.

Ann just stood there, shocked at the sudden turn of events.

“Will you cooperate with me? What do you say?” the blue-haired teen pleads, his eyes looking at Akira hopefully.

“Hold your horses!” Ryuji butts in again, positioning himself in between the blue-haired teen and Akira. “Who’re you anyway?”

“Oh, where are my manners?” The blue-haired teen tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “My name is Yusuke Kitagawa. I’m a second-year at Kosei High’s fine-arts division.”

He pushes past Ryuji. “I’m a pupil of Madarame,” he further elaborates. “An art exhibition of his will begin at the department store near the station tomorrow. I’ll be there to help out on opening day. Please come by and tell me your answer.”

Yusuke eagerly places a ticket in Akira’s hand and then, quite reluctantly, gives two other tickets to Ann and Ryuji.

“I hope to see you there,” Yusuke says, his gaze once again fixated on Akira, before walking off.

“‘Stalking me,’ my ass,” Ryuji grunts after a while.

“Shut up,” is all Ann says, embarrassed.

Ryuji turns to Akira. “You’re not plannin’ on going, are you?”

Akira shrugs, looking down at the ticket in his hand. “It sounds kind of interesting…Maybe I will.”

“Seriously…?” Ryuji says, feeling a pang in his chest.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ann sighs, hand to her forehead. “After dealing with all this, I could really use a crepe right now.”

“You know what? Me, too,” Ryuji grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. He needed to something to perk him up, even if it meant eating sweets.

They start walking towards Shibuya square, leaving Akira to stare at the ticket in his hand some more.

He hadn’t expected this turn of events.

“You comin’ or what?” Ann finally shouts, looking over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Akira yells back, pocketing the ticket in his bag.

But it was an interesting turn of events, he had to admit. Yusuke definitely caught his attention now.


	2. You're What?!

Ryuji scuffs his shoe against the tiled floors of the Shibuya train station. "We're seriously gonna go...?"

"For the third time, Ryuji," Ann huffs, " _yes_ , we are."

"But whyyyyyy," he groans, throwing his head back dramatically. "Seriously, we don't even know the guy..."

"Hey, free tickets are free tickets," Akira says with a smile.

"Yeah, free tickets to an _art show_ ," Ryuji grumbles.

"Appreciating the fine arts builds character,” Morgana pipes up haughtily, popping his head out of Akira’s bag. “And you _definitely_ need some, Ryuji. Imagine being a phantom thief who can’t tell the difference between a fake and an original? How embarrassing.”

“Shut up, you damn cat!” Ryuji snaps, shoving Morgana’s head back into Akira’s bag. “No one asked you!”

Morgana just laughs.

"He has a point, though,” Akira muses.

“Yeah, maybe, but that’s definitely not why _you’re_ going,” Ann teases, bumping her shoulder against Akira’s. Ryuji makes a face.

“Hmm, you’re right,” the raven-haired teen says, reaching a hand to twirl a lock of his hair. “I’ve been thinking that this Madarame and the Madarame mentioned by Nakanohara might be the same person...so the art gallery is the perfect chance to test that theory out.”

“True,” Ann agrees. “ _But_ ,” she continues, hands on her fist, a knowing grin on her face, “I’m sure there was another reason, too.”

Akira grins back. “Maybe.”

Before she could tease him any further about his mysterious second reason, their train to Madarame’s exhibit shuffles in with loud ringing, and Akira seizes this as a chance to cut off the conversation.

 _Thank goodness_ , he thinks to himself, relieved. If he hadn’t been saved by the train, Akira was sure that Ann wouldn’t have stopped until she had the words “I’m going because Yusuke’s such eye candy” pulled right out of him.

... 

“It’s crowded in here,” Morgana complains, popping his head out of Akira’s bag again to stretch out his body a little. Sheesh, would it kill Akira to clean his bag more often?

“It’ll be a pain in the ass if someone sees you,” Ryuji warns, “so try not to stick out your head out so much, all right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Morgana sighs, lowering himself back into the cramped mess that was Akira’s bag.

“You came!” a voice excitedly says, and soon a familiar tall, slender figure with dark blue hair stands before Akira, slightly panting from running.

“You didn’t have to run so hard,” Akira says, amused. Inwardly, he was busy drinking in Yusuke’s appearance. Tight, black pants, a shirt with a teasing view of his collarbones, high-heeled boots... _Very nice_ , Akira thinks.

Yusuke shakes his head. “How could I not, when my muse is right in front of me?”

Ryuji scoffs, and it’s in that moment that Yusuke registers the presence of Akira’s blonde-haired friends.

“Oh,” he says rather dismissively, “you’re here.”

Ryuji juts out his lips. “What’d you _expect?_ ” he snaps, a hand slipping from his pocket to dangle a ticket in front of Yusuke’s face. “You _gave_ us tickets.”

Yusuke doesn’t bother to look. “Yes, out of courtesy,” he responds offhandedly, calmly brushing a stray hair back behind his ear. “I didn’t think you’d _actually_ come.” He then waves dismissively at Ryuji and Ann. “Just make sure you don’t get in the way of the other visitors.”

“We won’t,” Ann promises while restraining a pissed-off Ryuji. “ _Would you quit trying to pick a fight?!_ ” she hisses at him, twisting his left arm. “ _He’s the one trying to pick a fight with me!_ ” Ryuji hisses back.

Yusuke looks at the unfolding scene with disinterest.

Focusing his attention back onto Akira, the blue-haired teen gives his muse a bright smile. “Come now,” he says, motioning Akira to follow him. “I’ll show you around. I’d like to speak more about the picture I’d like to draw, too.”

“Ah, ok.” Akira turns around---Ann now had Ryuji in a headlock---to give his friends a quick goodbye. “Well, I’ll see you two later.”

“Have fun!” Ann chirps.

Ryuji just gags. Whether from Ann’s death grip or from the sight of Yusuke with Akira, it wasn’t clear.

...

“There are so many different art styles displayed here,” Akira says softly, his gaze shifting between a painting of a cartoonish cat and a painting depicting a hyper-realistic pink flower.

Yusuke smiles. “Usually one concentrates on their own style. However, Sensei creates all of this”---Yusuke does a little sweeping motion with his hands---“by himself. He’s special.”

“Ah, there you are, Yusuke,” a kind voice suddenly calls out.

“Sensei!” Yusuke responds, quickly straightening his posture.

 _‘Sensei?’ Then this guy must be Madarame_ , Akira notes to himself.

“Oh, is this the boy you were talking about?” Madarame asks, noticing Akira. Yusuke nods.

Madarame gives Akira a quick once-over. “My, my, he truly does have a captivating aura around him,” the kind, old man remarks, smiling.

Yusuke vehemently nods.

“Are you enjoying the exhibit?” Madarame asks, now smiling at Akira.

“Yes. It’s...”---Akira fiddles with his hair here, trying to come up with something meaningful to say---“it’s just been... _amazing_.” He sighs a bit. “Sorry. I don’t know how to put it all into words...”

Madarame shakes his head. “The fact that you’re sensing anything from the artwork at all is enough to make me happy.”

He then turns his attention back on his apprentice. “I hope this becomes a wonderful piece, Yusuke,” he says, all smiles again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

 _He sure smiles a lot_ , Akira thinks, watching Madarame’s retreating figure with squinted eyes.

“He sure is friendly,” he says aloud instead.

“Indeed,” Yusuke agrees. “Sensei doesn’t agree with the gaudiness of other artists, so he tries hard to be open and approachable.”

“How commendable,” Akira begins, but then something catches his eyes.

“Oh!” He lets out a little gasp.

“What is it?” Yusuke asks, surprised.

Akira points at a wooden-framed painting. “This is it---the painting I wanted to see in person.”

Yusuke’s shoulders tense up when he realizes Akira’s talking about the painting with the cherry blossom trees. “...This one?” he finally asks after a few seconds.

Akira nods. “When I saw it online, it just drew me in. You can really _feel_ the painter’s frustration from how sharply drawn everything is. To think that such a cheerful man made this amazes me.”

Yusuke purses his lips.

When he fails to respond, Akira turns to look at the blue-haired teen. “Is something wrong?”

Yusuke shakes his head. “Don’t mind me.” He then starts pulling gently on Akira’s arm. “Come now, there are better pieces than...this one.”

 _Could it be..._ , Akira thinks, letting himself be pulled away and taking note of Yusuke's tense shoulders.

_That this painting is really yours...?_

...

“’m bored,” Ryuji yawns.

“I’m not!” Ann cheerfully says. “The art here is _really_ amazing. Just look at this one!”---she points at a landscape painting---“It looks so realistic! Almost like a photo!”

“Booooring” was Ryuji’s verdict.

“Oh, shut up,” Ann huffs, arms crossed. “This is why people think you’re uncultured...which you totally _are_.”

“Man, appreciating art doesn’t make you cultured or anything,” Ryuji grumbles. “Comments like ‘oooooh’ and ‘aaaaaah’ don’t mean shit...which is the only thing _you’ve_ been doing.”

Ann blushes. “Shut up!”

“As much as I hate to admit it, Ryuji makes a good point,” a tiny voice pipes up from a darkly-lit, secluded corner of the gallery.

“Morgana?” Ann whips her head around to see cat ears poking out from the wall. “What are you doing here?”

“And what do you mean by ‘you hate to admit it,’ ya damn cat?!” Ryuji hisses.

Morgana stretches out his front legs, ignoring Ryuji. “I came to check up on you two,” he explains, now stretching his back legs. “And also to deliver a message.”

“A message from Akira?” Ann asks, scratching Morgana behind his ear.

“Yup!” the cat purrs, leaning into her touch. “Based on how Yusuke reacted to a particular painting, Akira now thinks that _Yusuke_ was the one who actually painted it, and I’m inclined to agree with him. His reaction was really suspicious.”

“What!” Ann says, surprised. “But then that would mean...”

“That Madarame’s a fraud,” Ryuji finished, grinning. “And you came here to ask if we’ve found any information on his keywords?”

Morgana nods. “Have you?”

“Not yet,” Ryuji answers. “But let’s do a little more digging around here.”

“Here, Morgana, you can be in my bag for now,” Ann says while ushering the cat into her white handbag. When she turns to face Ryuji, she raises her eyebrows. “ _Someone_ sure seems fired up.”

“Of course!” Ryuji grins. “There’s finally something _interesting_ to do around here.”

...

“Are you hungry?” Yusuke asks after he’s dragged Akira far, far away from that painting. “There’s a buffet table close from here.”

Akira shakes his head. “I’m good.” (He’s full from all the cheese plate samples he’s been chowing down on whenever Yusuke wasn’t looking). Noticing an empty bench, he decides to point it out. “Why don’t we sit down for a bit instead? We can talk about your modeling proposal.”

Yusuke nods. “If that’s what you want.” _He’s full from the cheese plate samples, isn’t he?_ the blue-haired teen thinks to himself, hiding a smile behind his hand. His muse was most amusing.

“So, about this modeling thing,” Akira begins once they were both settled on the bench, “what would I have to do?”

“Well, you would just have to hold still for a long while,” Yusuke answers, ticking things off with his fingers, “do the poses I tell you, and...if you wouldn’t mind...” But he stops there.

“‘If I wouldn’t mind’ what?” Akira prods.

Yusuke rubs the back of his neck, a pensive look on his face. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like for you to...lay yourself...bare...to me...”

Akira blinks. “You want me...to _strip_ for you?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like _that!_ ” Yusuke quickly intercepts, waving his hands. “It’s just, clothes get in the way of seeing how the body’s muscles and flesh interact, so I prefer my muses _without_ any clothes on.”

A pause.

The blue-haired teen then sighs. “That didn’t sound much better, did it?”

Akira laughs. “Not at all.”

“But I get what you’re trying to say,” Akira continues, looking over at Yusuke with a smile. “And if that’s what you need me to do, then I don’t mind doing it.”

“R-Really?” Yusuke asks.

“Really,” Akira confirms. “I’ll even throw in a free strip tease for you.”

“That...isn’t necessary.” _Although it would be nice_ , Yusuke catches himself thinking. He gives himself a mental kick for that.

Akira laughs. “I guess not. Anyway”---here he pulls out his phone---“let’s exchange contact info.”

“Right!” Yusuke quickly pulls his own phone out in excitement.

He really did pick out a good muse.

...

“That old lady totally elbowed me!” Ann complains, rubbing her sore arm. They were now waiting for their leader in their usual meeting place. Ryuji wanted to wait for Akira outside of Madarame’s gallery, but Ann was having none of that---she wanted to _eat_ , damn it---and so here they were, toasted bagels in hand.

“Look on the bright side---we managed to get some good information from that interview Madarame was doing,” Ryuji points out, taking a bite out of his bagel.

Ann sighs. “I guess, but did that old lady have to push so hard? It’s not like Madarame was gonna disappear or anything!”

“What a rude old lady!” came Morgana’s response. He takes a sneaky bite out of Ann’s bagel while he’s at it.

“Right?!” Ann huffs, not realizing that Morgana munched on her precious food. “Anyway,” she continues, looking down at her phone. “Akira should be here soon.”

“Good,” Ryuji says. “Then we can tell him what we found out.”

“Oh, I think you’re happy about him returning for a different reason,” Ann teases, putting her phone back in her handbag.

“Shuddup” was all Ryuji said, his ears stinging.

“Can’t you two get along without me?” a voice jokes.

“Akira!” Ryuji shouts, getting up from his spot on the floor. Realizing he was a little _too_ excited for his bro’s return, Ryuji tries to pass it off as if he was getting up to give Akira the bagel they bought for him and not for a hug or anything.

“Oh, thanks,” Akira says, brightening. “Walking here made me hungry again. So,” he begins, taking a large bite of his bagel, “did you guys find anything out?”

“Well, Ryuji here says we did,” Ann tells him, shrugging her shoulders, “but I’m not sure about that.”

“Trust me, we did,” Ryuji swears. “You see, this camera crew started doing an interview with Madarame inside the gallery, and he kept mentioning the word ‘shack’ over and over again.”

“And that matters because...?” Morgana asks, jumping out from Ann’s bag so that he could get petted by Akira.

“Because it reminded me of this post online,” Ryuji explains, whipping out his phone. “Listen to this: ‘A master of the Japanese arts is plagiarizing his pupil’s works. Only his public face is shown on TV.’”

“Plagiarizing...!” Ann’s eyes light up. “Just like what Akira was saying about Yusuke!”

“Right?!” Ryuji says. “But’s that’s not all. There’s still more: ‘His treatment of the pupils who live with him is awful. He teaches nothing and bosses them around. He treats them inhumanely, as if disciplining a dog...’”

“Abuse on top of plagiarism, hm...?” Morgana tsks, shaking his head.

“If this is real, it’ll be a  _huge_ scandal,” Ryuji says excitedly.

“I wonder if Yusuke posted this...?” Ann proposes. “I mean, he _is_ a pupil of his.”

Ryuji shrugs. “It’s anonymous, so who knows?”

“But who also knows if it’s _real?_ ” Ann points out. “I really can’t imagine someone as sweet as Madarame abusing his pupils like that...”

Akira finishes up his bagel. “Maybe not,” he finally speaks up, wiping the crumbs off his hands, “but it’s a lead, and that’s better than nothing.”

“He’s right,” Morgana agrees, stretching himself up on Akira’s legs. “And if this information really is true...then this is the perfect target we’ve been waiting for.”

“Hell yeah it is!” Ryuji cheers.

“I guess,” Ann says, shifting her handbag to her other shoulder. “Anyway, how did that modeling thing go for you, Akira?”

Akira waves his phone. “I got Yusuke’s contact info and the address to Madarame’s atelier---we’re meeting up tomorrow.”

“What? So _soon?_ ” Ryuji gawks.

“That’s perfect timing!” Morgana cuts in. “We can all go confront Yusuke about Madarame after school!”

“Ah, about that,” Akira starts, twirling a lock of his hair, “I don’t think you’d want to do that.”

“And why not?” Morgana asks, tilting his head. “This is the perfect opportunity for it.”

“Yes, but...” Akira sighs. “I’m gonna be modeling for him tomorrow.”

“We know,” Ann says, munching on her bagel. “We can just wait while he’s finishing up painting you, it’s no big deal.”

“No, it _is_ ,” Akira insists.

Ryuji raises his eyebrows. “Dude, why are you being so stubborn about this?”

Akira sighs. “Because I’m _nude_ model,” he finally elaborates.

Ann chokes on her bagel, and Ryuji would have too if he hadn’t already finished eating it. Morgana just looks dumbstruck.

“You’re _what?!_ ” Ryuji asks, eyes bulging out.

“It’s not a big deal,” Akira says, shrugging. “It’s a common thing in the art world.”

“No, no, no,” Ryuji interjects. “That’s definitely not ok. Like, holy shit, dude...we only met the guy until recently...!”

“Yeah!” Ann agrees, thumping a hand against her chest to make it easier to swallow. “This is a _little_ too much, Akira, even for you. We’re definitely going with you.”

“If you’re coming with me, then you have to wait _outside_ while Yusuke’s painting me,” Akira insists.

“No way---!” Ryuji starts, but he’s cut off by Morgana saying, “Ok.”

“What?!” Ryuji sputters, whipping around to look at that stupid, damn cat.

“I said ok,” Morgana calmly repeats. “I trust in Akira’s judgement. Besides, while he’s busy distracting Yusuke, we can look around Madarame’s place for clues. It’s a good plan.”

“Good plan, my ass,” Ryuji grumbles.

Ann gives Ryuji a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “It’s hard to change Akira’s mind once it’s been made up...And it’s not like we have a better plan, anyway.”

That doesn’t make Ryuji feel any better.

On the other hand, Akira’s all smiles. “Great!” he cheerfully says, picking Morgana up to put him back inside his bag. “Let’s meet up at the front gates once school is over and head over to Madarame’s place.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuji sighs.

Tomorrow was going to be one hectic day, he could already tell.


	3. The Strip Show You Were All Waiting For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry I haven't updated this in *quite* a while---I was binge-watching the 2011 Hunter x Hunter series. And then I started binge-watching the 1999 Hunter x Hunter series and all its OVAs...so that took a while to watch (I just finished the last episode yesterday).
> 
> But now that I'm finally free from the Hunter x Hunter series (for now), I quickly whipped this chapter up! It's not as finished as it could be, but damn it, I don't want to leave this fic to dry out, so I'll just be sure to tie things up in the next chapter! Which hopefully does not take as long as this one to make and post, lol.
> 
> Oh, and warning---yes, the beginning of the chapter has quite a bit of pegoryu moments. Not sorry about that, lol. But I tried to make that up to you with the tension between Akira and Yusuke near the end :)

As soon as Kawakami finally dismisses class (which was delayed by a few minutes because _someone_ kept trying to text a certain blue-haired artist in the middle of Kawakami’s lesson, earning the entire class a lecture), Ann leans back in her chair so that the back of her head was resting against Akira’s desk.

“You’re so _thirsty_ ,” she says, pointing a finger at him.

Akira slides his phone back into his bag. “I’d rather describe it as being ‘eager.’”

“Yeah, eager to get _naked_ , apparently.”

Akira laughs softly. “Well, can you blame me? I’m kind of an exhibitionist.”

“You’re right,” Ann snorts, recalling past moments in which Akira shamelessly revealed lots of skin. Like how he was usually shirtless whenever they held meetings in his room, or how he’d casually strip at the gym as time went on, under the pretense of getting overheated, and, according to Ryuji at least, how he’d always make a whole show out of undressing whenever they were in the bathhouse across Leblanc. Their leader just _loved_ to show off—that part of him remained with him even outside the Metaverse. Or maybe it was always with him?

Well, not like it mattered. Their regular selves were quickly becoming indistinguishable from their Metaverse selves, Ann muses.

Stretching, Ann decides she’s teased Akira long enough and springs up from her seat, pushing her chair in.

“Let’s go meet up with, Ryuji,” she hums, slinging her bag over a shoulder. “He’s probably been waiting for a while.”

…

Ryuji taps his foot impatiently against the concrete floor.

He can’t help but feel a little iritated—today’s the day that Yusuke finally gets to see something that Ryuji _hasn’t_. Well, maybe that isn’t quite right.

He _has_ seen Akira’s naked body before—at this point, who hasn’t?—but it’s the context in which Yusuke gets to see it that’s making Ryuj’s stomach churn.

With just them two in the room, it was like Yusuke was getting his own private show…

Ryuji sighs.

“Yo,” a cheerful voice says.

Ryuji turns his head to see Ann and Akira walking down the steps.

“What took you guys so long?” he complains, toeing the floor with his right shoe in frustration.

Ann points a thumb at Akira. “All his fault. He held the entire class hostage with his stupid texting.”

Akira feigns a look of betrayal. “Ann!” he gasps, hand on his heart. “I can’t believe you ratted me out so quickly!”

“And I’d happily do it again,” Ann shoots back, grinning.

Texting…who? Ann conveniently leaves out that little tidbit of information. Still, Ryuji doesn’t need her to say out loud—deep down, he already knew.

“Whatever,” Ryuji cuts in, waving a dismissive hand. “Let’s just head over to the train station already.” And then he sharply turns around and starts briskly walking away from the school gates.

“Hey, wait up!” Ann chases after him.

Akira lingers a bit, thinking, before doing the same.

…

“This sucks,” Ryuji groans.

The train was packed, and Akira and Ann had managed to snag seats while he was stuck standing up.

Ann sticks out her tongue. “You snooze, you lose.”

“You could always sit in my lap,” Akira offers, patting his thighs invitingly.

“No thanks,” Ryuji quickly responds, turning his body away, ears red.

But it was at that moment that someone lost their balance, causing them to bump into Ryuji hard enough that he fall backwards

Right.

Into.

Akira’s lap.

Ann bursts out laughing.

“This isn’t funny!” Ryuji hisses. He tries to get up again, but Akira quickly wraps his arms around the blonde boy’s waist.

“Akira?!” Ryuji whips around to face him.

Akira just smiles and tightens his grip.

So it was then that Ryuji knew he was stuck like this for the rest of the train ride. _Damn him_. Ryuji tries to will himself to blush less. It wasn’t working. He opts to cover his face with his hands instead.

“What’s with all the commotion?” a small voice asks.

“Oh, Morgana!” Ann says, turning to the bag in between her and Akira. “The funniest thing just happened—”

“Don’t tell him!” Ryuji butts in, his voice coming out muffled. He was still covering his face.

Ann sticks out her tongue and tells the damn cat about the most embarrassing five seconds of his life anyway.

Morgana starts laughing right away, even popping his head out the bag to mock him.

“You’re all the _worst_ ,” Ryuji groans.

“I think you mean the _best_ ,” Ann corrects, grinning.

…

“Why didn’t you let me go immediately?!” Ryuji’s voice booms out. Ann’s pretty sure the whole neighborhood could hear it—it was _that_ loud.

Akira shrugs. “I didn’t feel like it,” is all he says.

“ _What_ —”

“Oh, hey, look!” Ann cuts in, pointing at a raggedy, old building. “The door plate there says ‘Madarame.’”

Ryuji blinks, surprised. “Whoa, really? He lives…in this old thing?” He turns to Akira. “Is this really the right place?”

Akira nods. “This is the right address.” He then boldly walks up the steps of the old building and rings the doorbell.

A pause.

And then the door slams open so aggressively and so quickly that it’s a wonder that the building didn’t just collapse right then and there under such force.

Ann and Ryuji jump back instinctively.

“Are you sure that was ok to do?” Akira asks, still remaining in the same spot, calm as ever.

“It’s fine,” Yusuke says, breathless. “It’s studier than it looks.”

And then he notices blonde hair sticking out from either side of Akira. “Oh, you brought your friends…again.”

“They find you suspicious,” Akira says, smiling.

“Damn right we do!” Ryuji yells.

Ann nods. “Don’t get us wrong, Yusuke—you seem nice enough. But it never hurts to be cautious, you know?”

“I won’t do anything malicious,” Yusuke says. “But I can understand your feelings.” They were annoying, but Yusuke had to admit that they seemed like good friends. Going through the trouble of keeping Akira safe on their time off—truly, what great friends they all were.

Still, he worried their presence would be too distracting.

“Will they be watching me paint you?” Yusuke asks, turning to Akira.

Akira shakes his head. “No. If it isn’t too much trouble, can they be in a separate room? Close enough to me that they won’t complain but far enough that you can paint in peace?”

What a beautiful compromise. His muse just continued to keep being dazzling.

“That isn’t a problem,” Yusuke says. He then stretches out a welcoming hand. “I know the perfect room. Please come in.”

…

Yusuke sets down a tray of tea and baked goods on the white-laced table. They were in the makeshift living room.

“I hope that this will satisfy you for a while,” he says, not unkindly. “If you ever need anything, just come two doors down and knock.”

“Yup, we’ll be sure to do that!” Ann chirps, already stuffing her face with a frosted muffin.

Ryuji just sips his tea, eyeing Yusuke.

“Well, if that’s all—”

“Oh!” Akira gasps out. “I just remembered!” He pulls his bag over his head and then passes it to Ryuji. “Take care of this for me, ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will.”

Akira smiles. “Great.”

Was it Yusuke’s imagination, or did something in that bag just twitch?

“Yusuke?”

The blue-haired teen quickly snaps to attention. “Ah, sorry about that. I got a little distracted.”

 _It must have been my imagination_ , he thinks to himself.

To Akira, he says, “Shall we be off?”

“We shall,” Akira answers, mimicking him.

Yusuke smiles, amused.

…

When they arrive to his studio—or at least, that’s what he likes to call this room—Yusuke’s starts feeling giddy and more than a little nervous. Soon, very soon, he’ll be treated to the sight of his muse’s bare body. From what Yusuke can see with Akira’s uniform on, it looked like Akira was hiding a beautiful physique.

He tries to steady himself by getting his gear all set up.

“Do I just sit here?” Akira asks, pointing to the stool.

“Yes, please,” Yusuke answers from behind his art board, trying to get the white canvas situated. “And while you’re at it, if you could strip down while I’m getting ready, that’ll be great.”

“Nah, I’ll wait.”

Yusuke pauses. “You’ll wait…?” He looks up, confused. “Wait for what, exactly?”

Akira’s smile is blinding. “Wait until you can look at me, of course.”

Yusuke gulps, the implications not lost on him.

“If that’s what you want,” he softly says.

…

“Ann, would you stop stuffing your face already!” Ryuji scolds her.

“Buu aah dishn’t gesh to eash lunsch,” she says through a full mouth.

“Just take some with you, then! We’ve gotta make the most of this chance and explore this place. Get a feel for the enemy.”

Ann swallows and then thumps her chest. “Alright, _fine_ ,” she grumbles, getting up and filling her bag with snacks.

“Wait!” Morgana calls out, hopping out of Akira’s bag.

“What?” they both ask, turning around.

“We need to first check if Madarame actually _has_ a palace.” He then sighs. “Which we should have done _before_ coming here…”

“Oh yeaaahh,” Ryuji says, smiling sheepishly.

“Woops, that totally slipped from our minds, huh?” Ann laughs.

“Get serious, you two.” Morgana starts rummaging through Akira’s bag. “Although I can’t blame you—the rumors around Madarame were so flashy it distracted us. Now let’s see…Ah! Got it!”

Morgana pulls Akira’s phone out with his mouth. Setting it down on the floor, he presses the home button. “‘Madarame,’ ‘shack,’” he says out loud.

The Meta-Nav instantly responded. “1 hit found,” a voice read.

“Yup, he’s our guy,” Morgana confirms.

Ryuji pumps a fist in the air. “I knew it!”

“Now all we need is the distortion,” Ann cheers. “I’m sure if we look around the place, we’ll think of something.”

“Then it’s decided,” Morgana begins, grinning. “It’s time to put our stealth and intellect gathering to good use just like a Phantom Thief should!”

Both blonde-haired teens nod.

“First one who finds the last keyword wins!” Ann suddenly calls out, racing out of the living room.

“Oh, you’re on!”

Morgana follows in hot pursuit. “Don’t kid yourself—I’m the one who’s going to win here!”

…

“What’s all that noise?” Yusuke asks, turning his head towards the door. He starts to get up from his stool. “Maybe I should go check up on them—”

“Yusuke.”

The blue-haired teen freezes. There was something in Akira’s voice, something intangible, that he couldn’t help but give his full attention to.

“Y-Yes?” he asks, turning his gaze back on Akira.

“Are you all finished now?”

“Oh.” Yusuke blinks. “I…I am, yes.”

Akira smiles. “That’s great. Then I’ll do my part now.” He gives Yusuke an indescribable, an almost primal look. “Be sure to watch me, ok?”

Yusuke gulps for the second time today. “Y-yes. Of course.”

And with that, Akira begins to undress. He starts with his blazer, slowly undoing each of the red buttons. Yusuke takes careful note of how graceful and purposeful each movement was, almost like those slender fingers were dancing.

Akira finally shrugs off his blazer, fully revealing the white turtleneck underneath. He wastes no time hitching his fingers inside the cloth and then leisurely rolling it up his skin inch by inch, giving Yusuke a teasing view of his stomach, of the abs that were evidently forming from who knows what workout, of his beautifully sculpted chest, of his tantalizing collar bones, and then…

It was off. There was no more white turtleneck to obscure his view.

But Akira didn’t give Yusuke time to comb his upper-body more because soon, he was unbuttoning those striped pants of his and then hooking his thumbs inside.

Slowly, agonizingly slow, Akira slides the pants off his sturdy thighs, revealing black, short-like undergarments, and then slides it off even further, showcasing his muscular legs.

Yusuke feels something heavy develop in him, something making him feel lightheaded and breathless. He wanted _more_. More of what, he didn’t know, but he knew that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Akira. Nothing could, nor does he even _want_ to.

Before taking off his pants completely, Akira slips out of shoes first, followed by his socks, and then, finally…his pants.

Yusuke’s anticipation kicks into high-gear.

The only thing left was his muse’s black underwear.

Akira’s hands teasingly brush up, up, up both legs, until they finally, _finally_ reach the bands of his underwear. At this, though, he pauses.

“Akira…?” Yusuke’s voice comes out hoarse (he hadn’t realized his mouth had gone dry).

“Ah, sorry.” Akira looks up. It was then that Yusuke noticed how flushed his muse’s face was. “I’m…I’m getting a little shy.” He laughs. “Kind of ridiculous, really, after everything else I did…”

Yusuke shakes his head. “No, that’s perfectly understandable. Is there any way I can make you less nervous? Do you…”—and he hates it as he says it—“want me to turn away for a bit?”

“Ah, no, no, no!” Akira flails his arms violently. “I just…ah…if you wouldn’t mind…”—here, he looks away—“could you…take off your shirt…?”

That was the last thing Yusuke expected. “You want me to take off my shirt…?”

Akira keeps looking away. “I’d feel a little less shy if you were somewhat naked, too.” He twiddles with a strand of his hair. “That’s all.”

A pause.

And then…

“Well, that’s easy enough to do.”

Akira whips his head around in time to see Yusuke artfully unbuttoning his white shirt, fully exposing Akira to the contents of his delicate frame.

Akira ached to touch the smooth-looking skin, but he restrained himself, allowing only his eyes to hungrily rake through Yusuke’s exposed skin. _He’s so pale_. He found this deeply alluring. _Any mark I make on him would easily be seen_ …

“Is this to your satisfaction?”

Yusuke’s question snaps Akira back to attention.

He breaks into a wide smile. “Yes, very much so.”

And with that, he trails his hands back up to the band of his underwear, this time with two thumbs hooked at each side.

Yusuke’s breath hitches in anticipation.

What he saw pleased him greatly.


	4. Shitty Plan Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, ok, I'm pretty sure this chapter took even LONGER to write than the other one, and for that, I'm really sorry,  
> I was avoiding this fic for two reasons:
> 
> 1) I didn't know how to start this chapter without boringly continuing off where I left off with the last one until I suddenly had the brilliant idea of opening it up with Ann. She's just so much fun to write. So yeah, a lot of Ann in chapter, lol.
> 
> and
> 
> 2) I didn't !! want to break !! Ryuji's fictional little heart !! Like shit, being a multishipper is tough, y'all. I broke my own damn heart writing Ryuji. I am a fool. So yeah, now this is a pegoryu fic, too. I'm so soooorrryyyyy.
> 
> Also one more thing: I thinking of ending this little fic series around maybe 7 or 10 chapters, maybe even less, like right about the end of Madarame arc in the game with, of course, some changes :) Y'all think that's good? I sure hope so.

“They were _what?”_ Shiho asks, eyes wide, hand on her mouth, because she can’t believe what she just heard.

“They were both naked!” Ann repeats, stabbing the air with her spoon. She pauses. “Ok, Yusuke was only shirtless, but it still counts!”

Shiho shakes her head, laughing. “Ann, I’m going to need you to tell me everything from the beginning again—you’re horrible at making sense sequentially.”

Ann takes a bite of her chocolate pudding before answering. “Sorry, I have a habit of jumping to the juicy bits first.”

She then leans back in her chair, legs crossed, trying to channel her innermost Shakespheare. Or whatever writer that wrote in a dramatic way—she didn’t really pay attention in class.

“Alright, Shiho, get comfortable because I’m about to tell you the most _ridiculous_ thing that happened yesterday.”

Shiho starts squirming around, trying to get as comfortable as she could get in a hospital bed. When she finally does, she looks at Ann expectantly.

Ann then closes her eyes, trying to milk the atmosphere she built up. “Ok, so about yesterday...”

...

 _So_ _me,_ _Ryuji,_ _and_ _Morgana_ _were_ _looking_ _for_ _something_ _while_ _Akira_ _distracted_ _Yusuke_ _for_ _us_ —

“Wait, Morgana?” Shiho cuts in. “As in, the _cat?”_

“Yes, the cat,” Ann answers. “He’s smarter than you think,” she adds when she notices the confused look on Shiho’s face. “Now stop interrupting me.”

“Wait, but what were you looking for—”

“That is not important right now.”

 _As_ _I_ _was_ _saying,_ Ann continues on, ignoring Shiho’s protests, _we were looking for something, and I made it into a race because why not? Except we quickly realized a race wasn’t really possible. We kept bumping into each other—Yusuke’s place was *that* small._

 _Aaaand_ _we_ _didn’t_ _find_ _anything. Just some art supplies, this kitchen with barely any food in it, it was really sad to open the refrigerator just to see rabbit food in there. Like shit, no wonder Yusuke’s so damn skinny—_

“Ann, you’re rambling.”

“Woops, sorry.”

 _What_ _else_ _did_ _we_ _find?...Oh yeah, a fancy door! It was locked up pretty good, though. I kicked it, Ryuji tried to ram the door down, and Morgana just...meowed, I guess._

 _So_ _having_ _established that there *clearly* wasn’t anything else to be found, we went to go see if Akira was done posing. The door was still closed, so Ryuji’s like, ‘Guess we’ll just have to wait some more.’_

_But I said ‘Fuck that, we’ve been snooping around for at least an hour, they’ve got to be done by now,’ and so I slid the door open. Not only because I wanted to go home already but also because I noticed the sad look on Ryuji’s face._

“Oh, Ann,” Shiho says, shaking her head. “Your heart’s in the right place, but you do things in the most dumbass way.”

“Yeeeah,” Ann agrees, sighing.

 _So_ _guess what we found inside?_

“Naked boys?”

“Yup, naked boys.”

 _We_ _just_ _stood_ _there_ _in_ _shock. Like, I know Akira’s a nude model and all, but why the *fuck* was Yusuke shirtless? And I swear that you could just *feel* the sexual tension in that room._

 _So_ _I_ _did what any sane person would do: I flipped the fuck out. Went on full mom mode. Thanked Yusuke for the snacks, but an emergency came up and we needed to go. Like right now. Told him he could continue whatever he was doing with Akira at a later time._

 _So_ _I put my jacket around Akira, grabbed his clothes, then grabbed him, and hauled ass out of there._

“He must’ve been so mad,” Shiho giggles.

Ann snorts. “He definitely was. And very cold, too.”

“He went outside naked?!”

“Nah, he had time to put his underwear back on. We got a lot of stares for that, though.”

Shiho shakes her head. “Your lives are crazier than any Spanish telenova I’ve seen.”

Ann laughs. “You might be right about that.”

“Yes, and as much as I love hearing about the juicy gossip on your friends,” Shiho begins, clasping her hands and giving her best friend a knowing look, “I think Akira needs an intervention.”

“ _Uuugh_.” Ann lets her head fall on the edge of Shiho’s bed. “I _knooow_.”

“I mean, Ryuji and Yusuke seem to _both_ like _him_ , and _he_ seems to like _them_ both...”

“Yeeeah.”

“He can’t keep leading them on like this. It’s a little mean.”

Ann nods. “You’re right,” she sighs. “I’ll have a talk with him.”

“Good.” Shiho then swipes the pudding cup from the distracted Ann and takes a bite.

Ann immediately looks up. “Hey!”

“What?” Shiho says innocently.

“You took my pudding, you little thief!”

“Sharing is caring, Ann.”

“Like hell it is!” She tries to snatch the pudding cup back but Shiho quickly switches it to her other hand.

“Shiho, quit playing with me!”

“Hmm, let me think...how about _no?”_

Ann squints at her. “Alright, you’re asking for it, then.” She then puts out her hands in a grabby motion.

“Wait, no, don’t tickle me!”

“Too late!”

The sound of laughter could be heard leaking out from Room 310, much to the annoyance of the sleeping nurse next door.

...

“How much longer are you going to pout?” Morgana asks.

Akira just rolls over in his covers and grunts.

Morgana sighs. “Fine, then. Be that way.” He hops onto the windowsill and unhooks the latch. The muffled grumble of “ _Teenagers_ ” could be heard as he slipped out to go anywhere that was free of moody adolescents.

Akira starts flicking his finger aimlessly against the bed covers. Morgana just didn’t understand—you don’t get over a cockblock that easily, especially when it’s _Ann_ who does it. That girl knows no bounds.

 _And Yusuke was just about to do something, too_ , he was sure of it. Those eyes of his were lingering on Akira’s body longer and longer, the canvas long forgotten, his fingers twitching to touch him...If only Ann hadn’t barged in like that...

But then he remembers that pained look on Ryuji’s face and his frustration morphs into guilt. _Shit_. He’s stuck between hating Ann and being grateful towards her.

“Hey, Sojiro!”

“Oh, Ann! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Do you want a cup of coffee?”

Speak of the devil.

“Not right now, thanks. I’ve got some business to attend to first.”

“Let me guess—Akira’s in trouble?”

“Ooooh yeah. He’s in some _hot_ water. Like, boiling hot.”

Sojiro whistles. “Well, get him for me then.”

“I will!”

Well, fuck.

Footsteps come nearer and nearer, and then:

“Akira, I’m coming up! You better have a shirt on!”

Akira sighs. By the time he’s slipped into a shirt, Ann already made herself comfortable on the couch.

Akira wrinkles his nose. “You smell like chemicals.”

“I was at the hospital visiting Shiho, so _yeah_ , I smell like chemicals.”

“Oh, how is she?”

“She’s been doing great! Making some real progress. She can walk without her crutches for few minutes now—I’m so fucking proud of her. _But_ ,” she quickly cuts in before Akira could comment any further, “that’s not what I came here to talk about.”

Akira sighs again. Looks like stalling wasn’t going to work.

“What are you here to talk about?” he innocently asks.

“Oh I don’t know—maybe about why the _fuck_ Yusuke was shirtless, hmm?” Ann sasses him. “And how you keep hurting poor Ryuji’s heart? That boy’s clueless, but he ain’t _dumb_. I wish you’d stop messing with him, no matter how amusing his reactions are. _And_ —”

“Whoa, hold up! Don’t I get a say in this?”

“I don’t know. _Do_ you?”

“Drop the sarcasm for a bit.” Akira lets himself flop back against his bed. “Yusuke was shirtless...because I asked him to.”

Ann snorts. “Of course.”

“Shutup, Ann. I did it for a good reason.”

“And what was this ‘good reason’?” Ann probes, curling her fingers in air quotes.

“I was...feeling... _shy_.” Each word is punctured by a different embarrassed expression, with the last one having Akira hide his face behind a pillow.

Of all the lies...! “You? _Shy?”_

Akira rips his face from his pillow. “Yes! I can get shy, too, _jeez_. Getting naked for a painting is waaay different than getting naked in front of you guys. I’m being scrutinized more. I just wanted to even up the playing field a little.”

“Hmm... _I guess_ you have a point there.” Ann crosses her arms. “Ok, so what about the situation with Ryuji? It’s obvious he likes you. A little _too_ much, I might add.”

Akira sighs. “I know.”

“And you seem to like him back, too—”

Akira’s cheeks become flushed.

“—but you can’t keep leading him on if you’re more interested in Yusuke,” Ann finishes. “You’re breaking his heart and my sanity.”

“Who says I’m more interested in Yusuke?” Akira grumbles against his pillow. “I like them both equally...”

“ _Pffft_ , this is like right out of a shoujo manga.” Ann can’t help but giggle. “You know, those mangas where the girl impossibly attracts a multitude of guys and has a hard time choosing who she wants to be with? That’s you right now.” She’s practically dying with laughter at this point.

“Get serious!” Akira throws a pillow at her head. “There’s one _major_ difference between me and a shoujo protagonist— _I_ want to get with _all_ of my options!”

Ann dodges the pillow, but stops laughing. “Oh shit.” She leans back against the couch. “You want an open relationship.”

“I guess.”

“That’s going to be hard to get them to agree to.”

“Probably.”

Ann shakes her head. “You just love taking the difficult route.”

“What can I say? A Phantom Thief isn’t satisfied with any less.”

Ann grins. “You’re right.”

...

Ryuji opens the door to Leblanc and weakly greets Sojiro.

“Whoa there, kid. What’s up with the long face?”

Ryuji shakes his head. He doesn’t want to remember the way he was distracted with thoughts of Akira the whole time he was searching Madarame’s atelier, or how he kicked that stupid fancy door out of frustration from the thought of Yusuke touching him, or how he just stupidly stood there, his heart drenched in cold water, when Ann opened Yusuke’s door. _Why the fuck was he shirtless?_ Ryuji couldn’t help but obsess over that.

So he says “Nothin’” instead.

“Yeah, like I’m going to believe that.” Sojiro clamps a warm hand on Ryuji’s shoulder. “Maybe some homemade curry will cheer you up a bit.”

Ryuji sighs. “Maybe.”

So with a plate of curry with a side of a rice in hand, Ryuji heads upstairs for another Phantom Thieves meeting. He wasn’t excited for it like he usually was, though.

“Whah up,” he says through a mouthful of curry as he enters Akira’s room.

“Oh, good, you’re finally here,” Morgana says, standing up on the table. “Took you long enough.”

“Shuddup, it’s the train’s fault, not mine.”

“Excuses, excuses. _Anyway_ ,” Morgana moves on, taking a bite out of Akira’s breakfast, “let’s talk business.”

“Oh yeah, did you guys find any ideas for the distortion?” Akira asks, swiping a piece of sausage before Morgana could. Morgana pouts.

“Yup! We came up with some ideas—which we honestly should have thought of before,” Ann answers. “I mean, c’mon, Madarame is an artist and his place is chock-full of art supplies; what place is more related to artists than a—”

“Museum,” Akira finishes.

“ _Distortion found_ ,” the Meta-Nav responds.

“Bingo,” Ann says. “Thanks for stealing my thunder, by the way.”

Akira grins. “Any time.”

Morgana hops off the table. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's pop over to Madarame's palace!"

"Wait, right _now?_ But I'm not done with my curry, yet!"

Morgana rolls his eyes. Well, as much as he could as a cat. "Just bring your curry with you, Ryuji."

...

"Alright, everyone ready?" Akira asks. After another train ride to Yusuke's place (and no, Ryuji unfortunately did _not_ fall onto his lap again), they were gathered outside the shack.

"Yes." "Yup!" "Nope."

Ann whips her head around to look at Ryuji. "How long does it take to eat _one_ plate of curry?!"

"You'd be surprised" came Ryuji's reply.

"Yeah, well, fuck that," Ann says before activating the Meta-Nav.

"Wait, Ann—!"

...

“Nooo, my curry!” Ryuji groans.

“Shutup about your curry, Skull,” Ann says dismissively. “We’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

“You don’t understand. I was holding the plate off the railing when you activated the app, which means the plate probably fell to the floor and you _owe_ me some curry now.”

“Don’t worry.” Akira pats Ryuji’s back reassuringly and leans in close. “I’ll make all the curry you could possibly want once we get back, _Skull_.”

Ryuji’s glad his mask covered most of his face because _holy shit_ was his face on fire. _Why did he say it in such a low voice?! And so close to my ear, too?!_

Ryuji doesn’t see it, but Ann’s rolling her eyes. “Let’s get to scouting, bitches,” she snaps, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “We don’t got all day.”

“True.” Morgana hops off of the white railing. “I’d like to get back in time for my cat nap.”

“Also, can I just comment on how fucking tasteless Madarame is?” Ann says, pointing at the gaudy museum that was Madarame’s ‘shack.’ “Like shit, it’s too shiny, and gold doesn’t make it look better, just a tip.”

Akira laughs, his arm still slung over Ryuji’s shoulders. “But isn’t a museum perfect for Phantom Thieves like us?”

“Definitely,” Ryuji agrees, grinning. “So let’s go check it out.”

...

They slip in from the back, seizing on the commotion the guards were making over the front entrance’s security. Akira gracefully hops from pillar to pillar, the rest of the Phantom Thieves close behind.

But then Ryuji loses his footing, and Akira quickly backs up to catch him, one hand on Ryuji’s wrist and the other tightly grabbing his waist.

“Be more careful, Skull,” he tells Ryuji in a hushed tone, his eyes glittering softly behind his mask.

“Sorry,” Ryuji mumbles, looking away. His face was red again.

“That was quick!” Morgana praises, the tension between them going unnoticed by him. Or maybe he was ignoring it. “Our special training looks like it’s working. Maybe I should have the rest of you do it, too.”

Akira grins, and Ann groans out a “No, thanks.” Ryuji stays quiet.

...

“Looks like a dead end,” Ann says, kicking the railing. The pillars had led them to one of the backsides of the museum, where the vents were located.

“Not quite,” Morgana pipes up from a corner. He taps against the yellow glass. “The skylight’s open. We can slip in through here.”

“Like hell we can,” Ryuji says. “It’s a far drop down, and I’m not looking to break any more of my legs.”

“Besides, how are we going to get back out?” Ann adds. “I’d rather not be trapped down there.”

“Hehe, don’t worry,” Morgana reassures them, puffing out his chest. “I brought a rope! I’m our tool specialist, after all.”

“A rope,” Ryuji deadpans. “How amazing.”

“Shutup! It gets the job done!”

With a firm knot on the railing courtesy of Akira, they all slide down the rope one by one.

Ann shakes her hands. “Shit, I’m glad our outfits come with gloves. We were going fast enough to get rope burn.” Her voice reverberates despite whispering.

“It’s quiet,” Morgana notices. “Almost _too_ quiet.”

“How strange,” Akira agrees. “We’d better be on the lookout for an ambush.”

“Wait, is it just me, or are those paintings, uh, _moving?”_ Ryuji asks.

“Nope, not just you,” Morgana answers, moving closer to one. “Since a Palace reflects its ruler’s heart, it would do us good to check these paintings out.”

Ryuji shrugs. “If you say so.”

Ann bends down to look at the plaque. “Let’s see what it says...Wait, is this just someone’s name and age?”

“Really?” Ryuji bends down to have a look, too. “What the hell?”

“This one, too.” Morgana starts pointing out paintings. “And this one, and this one, and this one...They _all_ have names and ages.”

Akira taps a finger against his cheek. “Let’s check the other paintings, too, just to make sure.”

And true to Morgana’s earlier claim, all the paintings on the floor did indeed just have names and ages.

“What the fuck?” Ryuji shakes his head. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but these paintings are creeping me out.”

“And they all look the same,” Morgana notices. “Isn’t Madarame famous for having multiple artstyles? This just gets more suspicious by the second.”

“Wait!” Ann suddenly exclaims, rushing over to a specific painting. “Is that... _Nakanohara?”_

“The guy who was shit-talkin’ Madarame?” Ryuji goes over to join her. “Holy shit, you're right. So the names and ages on the plates...”

“...are all the victims of Madarame’s plagiarism,” Akira finishes, looking disgusted.

Morgana shakes his head angrily. “He thinks of them as their property.”

Meanwhile, Ann had left Ryuji’s side to look around some more when she saw something she couldn’t believe.

“What...? No way!”

The rest of the Phantom Thieves rush over to her side.

“Panther what happene—” Ryuji cuts himself off. “Hey, isn’t this a painting of that guy...?”

Morgana looks at the plaque. “It says ‘Yusuke Kitagawa.’” He nods. “There’s no mistaking it.”

Akira bites down hard enough on his bottom lip to draw out blood. “Is this how he views Yusuke?” he angrily asks, fists clenched. “As nothing more than a fucking _tool?”_

“Whoa, calm down there, Joker,” Morgana interrupts. “We should keep investigating before making any conclusions.”

Akira wipes the blood off his lip. “Fine,” he growls out, but it was obvious he had already came to a conclusion.

A conclusion that he was going to kick Madarame’s ass.

Ryuji awkwardly looks away.

...

After having found a map in a brochure and zipping around carefully so that they wouldn’t be seen by any stray security guards, they eventually stumble upon a room with a giant gold sculpture at its center.

“‘The Infinite Spring’?” Ann reads out loud. “‘A conglomerate work of art that the great director Madarame created with his own funds. These individuals must offer their ideas to the director for the rest of their lives. Those who cannot do so have no worth living.’” Ann shakes her head. “Disgusting.”

“What bullshit” is Ryuji’s reaction. And Akira? He was just quaking with rage, the eyes behind his mask seeming to glint red.

“This is definitely about plagiarism,” Morgana says. “So now we have proof of this and the abuse, too. I’d say that’s enough investigating—it’s time we started getting serious.”

“ _Finally”_ comes Akira’s heavy growl.

“Why the fuck is Yusuke keeping quiet about this? He’s got no reason to cover it up!” Ryuji kicks the gold railing that was keeping the stupid sculpture safe. “He’s the victim here!”

Akira sighs. “I’m guessing it’s because he feels like he owes Madarame or something.” He clenches his teeth. “But still, this is no way to live...! Being treated like a damn slave...”

“Maybe so.” Morgana taps his chin. “There’s still so much about Madarame we don’t know, but at the same time there’s still much about his palace we need to explore. So we’re going to do this: we’re splitting up into teams.”

Morgana points a paw at Akira. “Joker, you’re going to continue where you left off with Yusuke yesterday, but this time, _alone_.”

“What!” both Ryuji and Ann protest.

“He’s doing it alone, and that’s _final_. He’s the only who could weasel any information from Yusuke about Madarame, and you know it.”

Ryuji scuffs his shoe against the floor. Morgana was right, and he hated it.

“And the _rest_ of us are going to explore Madarame’s palace while Joker’s busy collecting information. We should keep each other updated on what’s happening, so I’ll be sending either Skull or Panther out of the Meta-Nav to text you periodically. Ok?”

“ _Oook_ ,” everyone chants out, with Ryuji doing more of a groan and Ann rolling her eyes.

“Good. Now let’s get out of here and get a good night’s rest before doing our plan.”

“Shitty ass plan, if you ask me,” Ryuji grumbles.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything. Clean your ears, you damn cat.”

“How dare you! I keep my ears _very_ clean at all times!”

Meanwhile, Akira was busy burning a hole through the golden sculpture with his eyes.

 _Just you wait, Madarame_. _I’ll kick your ass for what you did to Yusuke_ , _it’s a promise_.


End file.
